


sweet cinematic

by kovisk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Original Work
Genre: Angst, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 03:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kovisk/pseuds/kovisk
Summary: poems i've written when im emo on either relationships i adore or idols i adore





	1. watch me bring him back to life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve / bucky  
> odd ends of poetry 01

STONE COLD GOLD?

does it hurt?  
what?  
your heart of gold?  
no, never, why?  
i wonder sometimes, if it's too heavy to carry,  
if it's like a closet with skeletons, of all the people you pretend to be.  
_silence_.  
it's like that, perhaps, when it gets too heavy. when people want you in so many ways. when you're torn in two.  
do you ever wish you weren't who you were?  
never, do you?  
maybe, sometimes. because then i'd still be able to take care of you.   
you will always take care of me, even without meaning to.  
how so?  
without you, those skeletons would come alive, and drag me into the closet with them. lock me away, and i'd be surrounded  
by all the things those people like to say.   
_a pause_.  
but when you're around, the skeletons are just bones, lying around, waiting to be put in a box, put away. i don't have to pretend,  
not when i'm with you.  
a heart of gold.  
not quite, but i guess it's the closest you'll ever get to it.  
a heart of silver?  
_a laugh_.  
that's good enough.  
good enough for you?  
it matters more to me, if i'm good enough for you.  
you'd always be. till the end of the line.   
and likewise, buck. till the end of the line.   
_a gold heart, and metal entwine_.

 

CAN YOU REMEMBER?  
ashes to ashes, dust to rust  
i've taken all, my hands in yours  
blue to grey, i've fall for,  
when your blue soaks red,   
and you breathe no more  
when you are dead,  
and youre apart of lore  
a myth a man, a legend to some  
a friend of mine, my only one  
when you've left me once,  
and you said never again,  
i believed in you, but now is then  
and here i stand, at your grave,  
solitude has nothing to say  
and i have nothing more to save,  
i lost you now, and some will tell  
of how you loved, and never regale  
of how i loved, you for so,   
i have nothing to say, and i should go  
disappear like no ones knows,  
they weep sometimes, stuttered woes  
i don't cry, not here, in my sleep, i do fear  
that you will haunt me like a ghost,  
and one i loved, loved the most,  
from brookyln to now, i should have known  
that my bitterness would never lead me home  
not to india, but to you, and now i have, my justs do  
you were my mission, once long ago, and now my friend  
i weep my woe

 

CAN YOU LOVE ME?  
i have bones in my closest, and im tearing out every skeleton that's not yours.  
im burning every page, and bridge, and i don't care if i burn, because what else is this for?  
all the days, and years, i've spent searching, something more.  
from the ice to the grave, your mother used to say;  
two halves of the same coin.  
i wonder what kind of coin exists without the other half.  
its not a coin than. it's nothing. its hollow and empty.   
and that's where you've left me.   
and i'll burn every bridge, and tear the world apart, if it meant you'd stay.  
but you won't return, serum or not, i won't see you again. 


	2. play your cards, and roll your dice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve / bucky  
> odd ends of poetry 02

WHAT ARE YOUR DREAMS MADE OF?  
are they of smoke, and fire?  
are your dreams pliant, desire?  
do you wish to ever be someone you're not?  
not what you've made to be?  
do you ever wish you could turn the clocks around,  
so you could go back, to being young and stupid,  
stupid with me?  
fire escapes, and ally ways, i remember it, blurry now.  
i wonder how a bullet sounds,  
tearing through a heart of gold,  
does it shatter from the purity?  
does it pierce like burning pages in a bible?  
did it hurt when they took your heart of gold,  
and replaced it with charred coals?  
did it hurt when they took me away?  
did it hurt when i couldn't remember you, what to say?  
it hurts now, that you're further away, six feet down.  
i've got to get on my way.  
but where do i go?  
no fire escape means home, no alley way leads me to you.  
your footsteps echo in my mind, your gold heart bleeding out of time.  
i wish you were here, by my side. and i regret when you said;  
til the end of the line.  
and i didn't go with you.  
maybe another time.

DO YOU HAVE ANY DREAMS YOU WISH TO SELL?  
do you ever wish you could piece yourself together again,  
take pages from bibles, and news paper clippings,  
and just stuff them in your bullet holes?  
so it doesn't hurt anymore?  
so you're not losing a part of you, every time a bullet tears through.  
do you ever wish you could wake up, without aching, bones shattering under the weight of the world.  
take that bible and burn it with every other bad memory.  
take those news paper clippings and shove them down your throat.  
choke on all the words they say about you.  
burn with every page of the bible you couldn't live up to.  
take your dog tags and wring yourself a noose.  
kick your chair, and pull your fingers loose.  
tell me you love me in the middle of gun fire.  
kiss me under the smoke of a storm.  
tell me you love me till we burn, bibles and bones.  
tell me till the end of the line as i pull your body from the dirt.  
tell me you love me when i kiss your bleeding palms.  
tell me in another life when i press my hands to your chest.  
tell me you love me when i hear you take your last breath.  
i tell myself till the end of the line, but i have nothing else to say.  
because i've been speaking to you for days;  
but you don't answer, not when you're just a grave.

DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING LEFT?  
i wish i could take you back  
take your hands in mine,  
god you were so young, so out of line  
wish i had kept it that way, but it's not the same  
you're a made of myths, six foot and a saint,  
not just a man, you're so much more,  
but i wish i had taken hold of your hand tighter,  
so you wouldn't disappear and let go.  
i wish i could have held onto you, before you would have known.  
i'm sleeping in ice, and i'm dreaming of death.  
i'm surrounded by glass, and suddenly its you, dead.  
i have nothing left, dog tags, tattered pieces of clothing, just a bloody rag  
wish i had taken hold of you tighter,  
the smoke, a lighter, a pint of whiskey, a song, a memory  
it's all just fragments, i've got nothing left


	3. in hell there is strife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve / bucky  
> odd ends of poetry 03

TILL THE END OF THE LINE?  
who would believe that this is how you go,  
that you would die, like this, heart of gold, all but sold.  
i wish i could have taken it away, their bullets, their aim,  
i've got your six, but god knows i wish i have your twelve  
i guess it was meant to be, from brooklyn, to bones, oh well.  
you bleed out, and i cried out, and they're screaming, and it's a blur.  
take my heart, take my life, pull my heartstrings, and sever   
god knows i wish i could sleep forever  
i won't let them take you, i said till the end of the line,  
and you smiled, said that's all the reason why,  
they put you in a casket and they take you away  
i pull the glass doors shut, hope the ice can give me just a day,  
i need just a day, and maybe a year, a decade at most,   
they all lower their heads, raise a toast.  
the funeral is short, and it means nothing, because they took you,  
heart of gold, and shook you, until your bones cracked, under the weight  
of the world, and i wish i could have been there sooner, to put you back together,  
but god knows i only had your six, and this ice can only keep my dreams at bay for so long,  
i wonder, what ever you did, whatever god thinks is a sin, that you don't deserve this, it's all wrong.  
the ice freezes over, and hell does too, but it doesn't matter, cause i dont got you.  
  
TILL THE END OF THE LINE.  
i wish you could have seen, your eyes in that kind of light,  
they were so grey, so sharp, so bright, your tears so clear,  
the smoke, the bullets, they all hear,  
your screams, and cries, you press you hand into mine.  
and i wish i could have told you, that yes, i loved you,   
before the cold took my bones, and turned me to stone.  
you press at the wounds, futile attempt, and its not too soon,  
for you to run, take cover, leave me here. heart of gold you used to say;  
and i wish that were true, caused too much damage, too few.   
i whisper, your eyes so bright, grip so tight, you press your hand into mine,  
till the end of the line. 

**Author's Note:**

> odd ends of poems based on either original characters, or ones from media, i'll often update this so stay tuned for your own favorite but-never-going-to-be canonical lovers happen to pop up (bc surely they will sooner or later knowing me)


End file.
